


All to Ourselves

by coveredsnow



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Avengers Family, Domestic Avengers, Established Relationship, Fluff, Gen, Halloween, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-30
Updated: 2018-10-30
Packaged: 2019-08-11 01:26:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,838
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16466060
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coveredsnow/pseuds/coveredsnow
Summary: The team get together for some traditional Halloween fun. Even superheroes need a night off ...





	All to Ourselves

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ferromans](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ferromans/gifts).



> This was written for the [stevetony-halloween-exchange](https://stevetony-halloween-exchange.tumblr.com).

Tony grinned at the mirror, taping the last bit of yellow paper to the red bucket on his head.

“How do I look, J?”

“I would never know the difference, sir.” The audio crackled with static, and quiet whispers ran in the background – Jarvis had created a program to simultaneously play anything he said backward in Latin.

“I’m gonna wipe the floor with them,” Tony said, holding out one hand with a blue rosette stuck to the palm.

“You never announced that it was a competition, sir.”

“Didn’t I?” he asked, sticking one last piece of Sellotape to his arm. “Damn. Guess I’m gracing them with this masterpiece out of the goodness of my heart, then.”

“That would be the philanthropist in you.” Tony snorted, walking toward the elevator in his moon shoes.

“Not a bad idea, actually – superhero dress-up calendar. Send someone an email.”

“Of course, sir.”

“One more thing. At around 3 AM, could you play Clint a really loud, piercing scream?”

“I will consider it.”

“You’re my fav, J.” Tony grinned as the elevator descended toward the communal floor. This was going to be a great night.

***

Tony gave a low whistle as he walked into the rec room.

“Not a bad turn-out.” Natasha was lying on the couch, her head - and four of the eight papery black legs she had taped to her back – in Clint’s lap. Clint was wearing a bizarre purple mask, and had a toy bow slung across his back. Bruce appeared to have stuffed a green sheet full of cushions, then squeezed into the largest pair of purple cut-offs Tony had ever seen.

“Aren’t you gonna get warm, big guy?”

“If it gets too much, I’m green underneath, too,” Bruce said. “I’m trialing a new sweat-resistant body-paint.”

“Uh, why?” Bruce took on a slightly lost look.

“Um … it seemed important at the time …” Tony smirked. He knew that feeling.

“Where are Thor and Steve?”

“Thor sent a raven,” Clint said, pointing to a large, black bird that Tony had assumed was a decoration. Now it turned to stare at him with piercing golden eyes. “There was some sort of disturbance in Asgard, but he’ll be here soon.”

“Steve went to get some drink,” Natasha chipped in, turning a huge, plastic tarantula over in her hands.

“That’s what I like to hear,” Tony said, fiddling with his phone to get some spooky ambient sounds playing. Steve came in, carrying a huge, steaming jug, and Tony snorted. If he wasn’t competitive by nature, he might have given this one to Steve. “You don’t even have to try. Your actual costume was stupid enough as it is.”

“Lay off. Brave men and women designed this costume.”

“Notice how you say ‘costume’, not ‘uniform.’” Steve’s helmet had actual wings on it, and he’d swapped the tights for a chorus-girl skirt. A cardboard shield was strapped to his back. “What’ve you got for me, star-spangled man?”

“A plan,” Steve grinned, putting the jug on the coffee table and getting out glasses. “Get Nat, Clint and Bruce absolutely wasted, then collect blackmail material.”

“Stronger men than you have tried,” Nat warned, taking a glass from Steve after he’d poured in some of the steaming drink and a healthy dose of bourbon. Steve brought Tony a glass without the liquor.

“How am I meant to kiss you when there’s a bucket on your head?” Steve murmured.

“The bucket has feelings too, you know,” Tony said, removing it all the same to take a sip of his drink. “Oh my _god_ , Rogers, what did you _do_?”

“Fall drink,” Steve grinned, shrugging. Hums of happiness came from the couches.

“Steve, what’s your recipe?” Clint called. “I demand your recipe.”

“Fall drink,” Steve responded smugly. There was a bright flash through the window, and a bang from the balcony.

“Thor’s here!” Tony cried as the door slammed open. “In time for the drink, as per frickin usual.”

“I am sorry that I’m late,” Thor said, walking over when Steve pointed to the jug and taking long, sustained gulps. “There were indications that some items of value had been removed from Asgard, but everything seems to be in order.” He let out a sigh of satisfaction, the jug landing on the table with an empty clang. At least he’d gotten into the spirit; he was holding a colorful toy hammer, a red curtain was tied around his neck, and he was wearing an awful blond wig over … his long blond hair.

“Couldn’t have tied it up, buddy?” Tony asked, gesturing.

“My hair is not something to be concealed for a party trick,” Thor snorted. His eyes fell on Clint, Natasha and Bruce, who were gazing mournfully into the empty jug. “Oh … my apologies, I forget how little mortals drink-“

“Come into the kitchen, you can help me make the next batch,” Steve said, rolling his eyes.

“Wait!” Tony rapped his knuckles on the side of his bucket-helmet. “A toast.” Everyone raised their glasses. “To Avengers-ween.” Steve laughed.

“Can we not call it that?” Nat said.

“One day before Halloween, when the douchebags go crazy and the kids are on the streets. Everyone’s at home preparing for the big night. A holiday all to ourselves. What else would you call it?”

“A disaster waiting to happen,” Bruce chuckled, and knocked back his glass.

 “That’s the spirit,” Tony said. He sipped his drink, and met Steve’s glittering eyes, as murmurs of “Happy Avengers-ween” filled the room.

***

“So you bake nuts into dough -?

“I can’t believe no-one’s given you a doughnut before, Thor. You’ve been here how many years?”

“It’s good, trust us,” Steve promised, tying up the other end of the string so that the doughnuts were suspended in mid-air. “Do you want a box to stand on, love?”

“Get stuffed,” Tony responded eloquently, positioning himself in front of the lowest-hanging doughnut.

“Genius, billionaire …” Clint murmured.

“I just want to take this opportunity to say that I’m at an objective disadvantage for all of these activities,” Tony said plaintively. “I’m the only one here without super strength, or super agility, or super-anything.”

“What do I have?” Bruce said, taking off his glasses.

“Super … blood-pressure?”

“You’re just afraid you’ll lose,” Steve said, rolling his eyes.

“Yes, that’s exactly what I’m afraid of. When did I suggest otherwise?”

“Come on, losers,” Nat said, walking over with exaggerated elegance from the couch, where she’d been finishing her third fall-drink. “Let’s end this embarrassment for all of you.”

“Bold words, Romanov,” Steve said, standing in front of a doughnut. “In the army, they teach us cunning, coordination –“

“Conceit,” Tony muttered. Clint laughed.

“No cheating,” Natasha warned. “If I see a hand, I will cut it off.” Bruce tugged at the sheet around his neck. “Three! Two! One!”

Tony went for it. He’d been lulling them into a false sense of security – he’d been doing keg stands since he was fourteen. Eating doughnuts off of string didn’t even qualify for the top ten weird ways he’d consumed food. Within thirty seconds his string was clean – he hummed in triumph around a mouthful of sugary dough, throwing his arms in the air. Then he nearly choked with laughter at the sight of Steve and Natasha looking like people possessed, tongues hanging out and mouths wide open, necks contorted as they struggled for full mouthfuls. Thor hadn’t managed a single bite, chasing the doughnut around the string like it was the toughest opponent he’d ever faced. Bruce and Clint were doing better, taking a more leisurely, precise approach.

“Keep going, keep going, I’m going to take photos,” Tony said, getting out his phone. Nat gave a muffled cry of outrage, but didn’t stop biting, her eyes rotating wildly to track the others’ progress.

“Disadvantaged my ass,” Steve said, gasping for breath.

“Wasting time, sugar,” Tony grinned, snapping pictures.

***

“Do you want to borrow Nat’s shower-cap?” Tony asked, biting his lip to suppress a grin. Steve snickered, hiding his face to one side, and Tony glanced at him triumphantly.

“It seems foolish to wet one’s hair gathering apples, when we all have perfectly serviceable hands,” Thor said, in the disgruntled tone of someone who knew they had lost.

“That’s the point,” Clint explained. “It’s an _increased challenge_. A test of perseverance, of ingenuity, of – um – um –“

“Why do you assume I have a shower cap, Tony?” Natasha asked, taking a bite from one of the leftover red apples piled next to the tub.

“I assume you own everything that has ever been useful to a human being, and that you somehow fit it all inside your pockets.” Nat rolled her eyes and tossed the apple in the air. There was a whistle and a _thwack_ , and the apple was embedded in the wall on the other side of the room, a knife protruding from it.

“My _wallpaper!_ ”

“Clint, we’ve talked about this,” Bruce said, clutching his chest.

“Work on your back-peddling, Stark,” Clint said. “And you’re ruining your chances, Nat, you’ve got to be Hungry for Apples.”

“Then let us begin,” Thor said, removing his wig. “I shall not fail this test; it will be no challenge to vanquish you all.”

“Everyone come up for air at least every forty seconds, whether you need to or not,” Steve said, kneeling in front of the tub with the rest of them. “I’m not having anyone drown out of pride.”

“Yes, sir!” Tony said, clicking his heels together behind him.

“That’s ‘yes, Captain,’” Steve smirked.

“Kinky,” Natasha murmured.

“OK, go!” Tony yelled, before anyone could say something they’d regret. He plunged his head in the water, and through muffled ears heard the others do the same. Forcing his eyes open, he saw the blurry shapes of floating apples - distorted by the water, they seemed oddly golden. He tried to fix one in his teeth, but they kept slipping away …

Something grabbed his hair, and he was pulled sharply backwards; he emerged sputtering, blinking the water out of his eyes, to see Bruce, Clint, Steve and Nat doing the same. Thor removed a hand from Tony’s hair, a – _definitely_ golden – apple in his mouth.

“Did any of you bite any?” Thor demanded, taking the apple in his hand.

“No, Christ, you were the fastest,” Clint grumbled, rubbing the back of his head.

“Jeez Thor, it’s not that serious –“

“It is quite serious,” Thor said, expression ominous. He fished around in the water, and brought out nine golden apples.

“What type are those?” Bruce asked, peering curiously.

“Asgardian,” Thor said, grimly.

“Well don’t look at me, they were Red Delicious an hour ago!” Tony protested, spreading his hands.

“I know it was not you, Stark. You could never have smuggled these out of Asgard.”

“Well, hey now –“

“Did you taste any? This is very important.” They all shook their heads. “Good. These are the food of the gods. They could have made you immortal.

“Say what now?” Clint said, leaning forward.

“This is Loki’s doing,” Thor muttered, taking a bag from inside his curtain and depositing the apples.

“Why would Loki want to make us immortal?” Steve asked, blinking.

“He doesn’t want to make you immortal, he wants to piss me off,” Thor said, standing. “I must find him and remind him of the consequences of his actions. I apologize for leaving this festival early – we must reconvene for more celebrations at another time.”

“How sweet that he wants to spend the holiday with his family,” Bruce said. Thor raised an eyebrow, but Tony thought he caught a brief smile.

“Hey, don’t forget your-“ Clint kicked the toy hammer in his direction, then howled in pain, clutching his foot. The hammer squeaked weakly, and stayed stubbornly put.

“Ah –“ Thor raised his hand, and it shot into his palm. “My apologies, I did not think …“ Clint hopped around the room, cursing.

“Take this,” Steve said, handing Thor a wrapped toffee apple. “It’s not golden, but it is traditional. You did win, after all.”

“Thank you, friends,” Thor said, nodding to them. “Our paths will soon cross again.” He swept out, curtain trailing behind him.

“I’m keeping the wig,” Natasha said, putting the yellow monstrosity on her head. “For disguise purposes.” Tony snorted.

***

“I don’t remember this from when I was growing up,” Steve said, arms crossed.

“You were missing out,” Clint said, flipping the bowl over so it was face-down on the plate. He lifted it carefully, revealing a densely-packed mound of flour.

“Where is this going?” Natasha asked, lying on her back, playing with one of her paper legs. Next to her was fall-drink number seven.

“Wait – I need to add the crowning glory.” Clint reached into his pocket, and brought out a packet of skittles. He placed one carefully on top of the flour. “Ta-da!”

“What, are we meant to eat that?” Steve frowned.

“Not if you play your cards right. Here – take the knife.”

“Famous last words,” Bruce muttered. He was nursing fall-drink number eight, and lazily batting around another of Nat’s paper legs.

“Now you cut into the flour.”

“Cut into the flour …” Steve murmured, doing so. “And now what?”

“That’s it. We go around in a circle, making cuts in the flour, and the person who collapses the mound has to fetch the sweet.”

“Let me guess,” Natasha said, raising her empty glass. “No hands.” Clint did finger guns at her.

“That’s disgusting!” Steve cried. Bruce began to giggle.

“In the army,” Tony said very seriously, “They teach us courage, persistence –“

“You’re next,” Steve said, handing him the knife. Their fingers lingered on the handle, until Clint and Nat started to make retching sounds.

They went around in a circle, Bruce and Natasha wearing frowns of intense concentration whenever it was their turn. Clint cut with extreme confidence, although Tony wasn’t sure whether this was a sign of skill or if he just didn’t care about eating flour. Finally, Steve was left with a narrow sliver of untouched flour to slice through. He lowered the knife carefully. Tony cleared his throat – and the mound collapsed.

“Yes!” Clint cried, reaching out to high-five Bruce. “Normal people win the day.”

“That was Tony!” Steve protested. “He distracted me –“

“If that’s all it takes, hun, you deserve to lose,” Nat said, pushing herself up. “Go on, I’ll get you a glass of water ready.”

“Is this entertainment? Is it? Really?” Steve asked, a twinkle in his eye.

“Best fun I’ve had all year. Jarvis, recording?” Tony said.

“Of course, sir,” came the crackly reply.

“Three! Two! One!”

***

Tony leaned on Steve’s chest, struggling to keep his eyes open. It was nearly midnight, and the intense regimen of Halloween fun had taken its toll. They were all spread over the couches, allegedly watching _Horror of Dracula_. In reality, Clint was snoring softly, the purple mask lopsided on his face; Bruce had untucked his sheet and was sleeping under it, propped up on a small mountain of cushions; Natasha was sat upright, but Tony had thrown several pieces of popcorn at her and elicited no reaction. He was only still awake because Steve’s shirt was wet from his earlier attempts to wash off the flour.

Tony turned to nuzzle into him, giving a small sigh of contentment. Then he frowned. From this position, he could feel Steve’s heartbeat. It was racing. He looked upward to his face. Steve’s eyes were wide, fixed on the screen; his mouth was open slightly, breath coming fast.

“Steve?”

“ _Ahh!_ ” He jumped, jerking Tony upright. “No – no, come back.” He gripped Tony’s hand, pulling it absentmindedly to his lips.

“Are you _scared_?”

“How can you guys fall asleep during this?” Tony smirked.

“Oh, honey. You’re so not ready for _Hereditary_.”

“No, no I’m not, whatever that is. Now _shh_.”

 After the film ended, Tony threw blankets over Clint and Natasha, while Steve leaned back on the sofa, occasionally shaking his head.

“Honest to God, Tony, I’m going to have nightmares.”

“Steve, we fight weirder shit than that every _Tuesday_.”

“It’s different! Life doesn’t have a – a spooky soundtrack, and –“ He threw popcorn at Tony as he started laughing. “You’re. Not. Listening. To me.”

“No?” Tony stood in front of Steve, assuming a mock-serious expression. “Sorry, what am I not getting about Captain America, Defender of our Nation, Champion of our Hearts, getting night-terrors from the horror equivalent of Nickelodeon?” Steve grabbed his hand, and pulled himself up. Suddenly they were very, very close.

“I’ll need someone to keep me safe,” Steve murmured, breath warm against Tony’s ear.

“Maybe it’s me you should be frightened of,” Tony whispered, kissing his neck, then biting down gently. Steve’s soft laughter was the most beautiful sound he’d ever heard. “I’ll tell you something I can do even better than Dracula.”

“Oh my God, Tony, _no_ ,” Steve laughed, pushing him away, but taking hold of his hands. “That’s _terrible_.”

“Come on, darling,” Tony said gleefully, pulling Steve in the direction of their bedroom. “You know, the best place to hide from monsters is under the covers.”

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Hallowe’en everyone! Thanks for kudos and commenting - it keeps the writer warm in the colder months <3 
> 
> I figure Steve’s from a time before good special effects – the bar for horror was quite a bit lower then ;)  
> Talking of which - check out this [amazing art](https://temporary-teddycup.tumblr.com/post/179595781125/hey-so-this-is-my-gift-for-coveredsnow-for-the/) that temporary-teddycup made me for the exchange! This is exactly how I want you to picture Steve's face ...  
>   
> If you’re interested in any more of my stuff, I’m currently writing a [de-aged Tony fic](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16441238/chapters/38498054/), updating every Sunday :) Follow me on tumblr at [coveredsnow](http://coveredsnow.tumblr.com/) or [subscribe to my Ao3](https://archiveofourown.org/users/coveredsnow/) for other pieces – I’ve written a frostiron one-shot that will be published soon.  
> Spooky love x


End file.
